


illuminate

by dripndrops



Series: glow in the night [3]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: "lizz stop calling therion 'the thief' in the summary", F/M, I still can't tag I'm sorry someone teach me, Some angst, and that sort of stuff, lots of kisses, mutual feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dripndrops/pseuds/dripndrops
Summary: The aftermath of a certain encounter between the cleric and the thief.





	1. speak

**Author's Note:**

> You're all so nice! I really wanted to write yet another follow-up, but I'm sorry if this seems rushed and is shorter than the last. I have no idea whether I'll continue this or not, I probably will, but I want to think of more ideas or maybe try to get through another character's second chapter so the rest of the octopath travelers can be more relevant. Something like that. I'll think about it.  
> This follow up has been dedicated to the friend, uwu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days after, and it's still unforgettable.

Her hands had trembled ever so slightly when as they brushed over his skin, leaving a burning feeling wherever they swept. The nervousness in his stomach, the oddly calming effect she had on him, and the sudden spark of fear when she tried to brush his bangs aside…

Therion couldn’t forget those feelings, even as he lied awake days after, trying to.

He couldn’t believe he had spilled all of his thoughts to her. What he thought _of_ her. More than that, he couldn’t believe the fact that him avoiding touching her had actually affected her _negatively_.

That night, her hands kept clenching, and he was almost relieved when he saw her relax them.

Her touch was gentle, as gentle as he had expected and more. She treated him like he was made of _glass_ or something—something fragile. Something…precious.

Therion didn’t deserve that. Some part of him wanted to feel offended. But he didn’t. He wanted her to _keep_ touching him, to have kept her hands on his face…

But the spark of fear when she tried to move his bangs caused him to screw all of that up, and now, he couldn’t even face her.

The rest of their group noticed the sudden distance between the two, although Cyrus was the only one who asked both of them directly about it. Primrose shot him a glare that could have torn the man in two if it had the power to do so and offered the flustered Ophilia and stone faced Therion apologetic looks.

That happened hours prior. Everyone retired to their rooms at the inn already, and night was passing as quickly as it usually did for him. Every day was always so quick, too fast for him to grasp onto. Moments where the group slowed down and could just interact with one another with ease were always his favorites, although he would never dare admit it.

He’d never say out loud how much he treasured the small interactions he had with Ophilia.

And of course, he had to go and screw _that_ up.

 

-

 

She couldn’t sleep.

For the passed few days, she had been forcing herself to do so, trying to exhaust herself during the day so it would be easier. But some nights gave her a hard time. Some nights, she couldn’t fall asleep.

Everytime she closed her eyes, she could imagine him, staring at her with an indecipherable look on his face before leaving as quickly as he arrived.

Perhaps it was her fault. After all, she was the one who brought up the topic of physical contact, and had spoken to him on a night where everyone seemed so lively from the drinks they were served. (That she, of course, declined)

Between the sudden lack of interaction between them and him averting his eye whenever they were near each other, she felt another heavy feeling settle in her chest, mixed in with more feelings she was unfamiliar with and couldn’t describe.

Everytime she glanced up at him, only to find that he was already walking away from her, the feeling grew even more, although she didn’t know _why._

She couldn’t sleep.

Ophilia was sure her other teammates were asleep—or at least, that was what she sincerely hoped as she peeked out of her room, glancing around the still hallway. It was completely silent. Sighing quietly, she stepped carefully out into the hall and towards one of the rooms.

Her hand knocked gently yet firmly against the wood but didn’t speak, afraid she would be too loud and her voice would wake one of the others up. When there was no answer, she knocked again, nervousness spiking in her stomach. What if one of the others woke up and questioned what she was done? What if she would be left in the middle of the hallway completely vulnerable, clad in only a simple nightgown and lacking her staff to defend herself? Questions ran through her mind, and the more worried she grew, the more the heaviness did as well. It was weighing her down constantly.

The door remained shut. There was no answer or any indication of anyone being awake behind it.

She crossed her arms, not knowing what to do. The next day would be the same, she would be surrounded by the others constantly and being constantly avoided. _Surely_ —the door creaked open.

She blinked multiple times, startled, and the figure behind the door peered at her. Upon confirming who it was, the door opened wider. “It’s late,” Therion said, voice weary but still pointed. It was the first thing he had said to her in days.

“We do not have to speak for too long,” she rushed to say in a hushed voice. “But—” He made a shushing gesture before gesturing for her to come inside. She did, sighing softly in relief, and he closed the door behind them, turning to her.

“If the others find out you were here late at night, they might start gossiping,” he pointed out, crossing his arms. “So make it quick.”

She felt irritation spike up within her. “I don’t understand why _you_ seem so upset,” she said, defensively. He looked taken back, eye widening slightly. “You were the one who…did _that_ in the first place. I just wanted to talk.” Her hand brushed through her hair, nervously. “It has been a few days since then and...I feel as though you are avoiding me.”

He stayed a good distance away from her, leaning against the door. “I thought it was the best option.”

“How would _that_ be the best option? You didn’t try to talk to me about it afterward or...give me a chance to react when it happened, or…” She trailed off, flustered by her own words.

Therion was still rigid. “The chance to push me away?” he asked. “To cry out in disgust, or start yelling at me? I wanted to leave as soon as I could to avoid that—I didn’t want you to make a scene.”

She stared at him, confused. “Why do you assume I would have done those things?”

He didn’t reply.

“I initiated it in the first place, in a way,” she continued, hands now fiddling with her nightgown. “You moved so quickly, I was too surprised to react. But I certainly would not have pushed you away.” Still no answer. His stance no longer looked defensive, and instead, she caught sight of something else on his face. The light from the window seemed to shine brighter within his eyes.

“...really?” His voice was lower than she had ever heard it before, and more vulnerable than she ever thought she would hear. A part of her felt her heart ache for the man, but another was joyful that he wasn’t pushing her away. She nodded. “Then…”

She brushed a lock of her behind her ear, looking away with flushed cheeks. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

The room felt so much smaller.

“Well, it’s not everyday a girl asks to _touch_ me out of the blue,” he remarked, trying to still the anxiousness within him. His words flustered her even more.

Her eyes shot up to look at him. “It wasn’t—!” She covered her mouth, preventing herself from yelling. She spoke in a muffled voice. “You’re always saying things like that. It makes me nervous.”

“Really?” He took a step towards her, and she jumped slightly. “Why?”

Her hands left her mouth as she stared up at him, looking embarrassed. “Because it makes me believe you might do something. For example…”

It was his turn to be flustered. However, he spoke earnestly, “I didn’t want you to see my other eye.” Her eyes softened.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. And I’m not saying I kissed you because of that.”

“Then...why?”

“I just _wanted_ to. Do I need any other reason?”

She gave a weak shrug. “I was thinking, no, _hoping_ , that perhaps…” When she looked up, he could see hope glimmering in her mellow brown eyes. “Perhaps, it was because…you hold something in your heart for me.”

His lips were set in a straight line, as though he was trying to prevent himself from speaking.

Therion shook his head, and Ophilia felt the heaviness shatter into a million, tiny shards that numbed her. Then, he spoke, “What I feel for you isn’t something we should talk about. Not tonight, anyway.”

She tried to collect herself. “Then when?”

“When I’m ready to. Okay?” Then, as though he feared she would grow angry, he added a small, “Please.”

She nodded, and he moved to the side, granting her access to leave. She looked up at him, wanting to say more—wanting to at least know whether they would be on speaking terms after she left. Thus, she spoke, “Is it alright for me to speak to you from now on?”

“I won’t stop you,” he said, although, she caught the guilt within his neutral tone of voice. She smiled.

She walked towards the door, opening it with ease, then looked back at him. “Goodnight Therion. Rest well.”

He was still standing by the doorway, watching her. “Goodnight Ophilia.” She hesitated, then reached for his hand. His bracelet made a small _cling_ noise as she raised it up and pressed her lips against his knuckles, closing her eyes briefly. In her mind, she offered a small prayer of thanks before releasing his hand and smiling.

“I will see you in the morning,” she said, exiting the room as quickly as she could.

“Ophi—…” He tried to call out for her, but the woman was already gone, down the hall and back in her own room. Therion shook his head. “Wow. Didn’t even give me a chance to react.” He paused, thinking over his words and her own from before...

_Wow._


	2. break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of them needed a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to take a break...and then I stumbled upon the little "hidden" chest nearby a waterfall in East Victors Hollow Trail while trying to level up Olberic, and thought of this. I'm sorry if Therion is too soft here! The comments I received on the last chapter made me want to update as soon as I could, and luckily I found inspiration and was motivated by all of your kind words. Thank you!

“Follow me for a second.”

“Huh? What are you—” Ophilia couldn’t even finish her sentence before Therion began walking off. Although extremely bewildered, she rushed to catch up with him, glancing back at the rest of their group, all members preoccupied and not noticing the two leaving. “Therion, could you please slow down? Just a bit?” Her voice was weary, and as he glanced back at her, he could see that exhaustion had settled into her face and stance. When she walked, it looked as though she was limping. _Is she injured? No, wait. She’s just tired._ He pursed his lips, looking annoyed, but slowed his pace for her to be able to walk almost next to him, a step or so behind. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere.”

“How far are we going?”

“Far enough.”

“Why?”

“Do you want to get there faster? Or do you want to just forget it and go back?”

She paused, and mumbled a soft, “...I apologize.”

“...We aren’t going too far from where they are. We’ll still be in the same area. So don’t worry.”

Silence settled in between them, although the surrounding forest area was anything but quiet. Birds were calling and singing to each other, leaves were rustling quite loudly, and there was the distant sound of rushing water…

“Do you hear that?” she asked, lost in their surroundings and forgetting what he had said. “I wonder if there is a river nearby, or something of the like…”

“You’re getting sidetracked,” he retorted, sounding quite irritated.

Ophilia frowned. “Are you upset, Therion? Did something happen?”

“No, but I _will be_ if you keep _asking_ me questions.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And stop apologizing! God, you’re making me feel…ugh. Just. You know what? Here.” Just when the cleric looked up, something hit her—despite being thrown quite hard, the object was soft, long, and...purple?

“Your scarf?”

Therion gave a sigh of frustration, looking around the heavily wooded area. “Wrap that around your head and cover your face. Don’t question it. Just do it.”

“Alright…but only because I do not wish to upset you further,” she mumbled the last part and did as he said, feeling silly as she wrapped the cloth around her head tightly. “I can’t...see.” She felt him tug at the scarf and she followed, walking in whatever direction he was pulling her in. “There are other ways to tell me to be quiet, you know…ways that make me look less…”

“Stupid?”

He couldn’t see her face, but he imagined that she was pouting when he snickered.

“Are we still on the path?” Her steps were cautious, slower, but that was to be expected considering she couldn’t see. Therion wanted to laugh at how funny she looked, almost stumbling over herself, or, actually, how _both_ of them looked. He was leading her by a _scarf_ for god’s sake. However, he was more preoccupied in ensuring they were going in the right direction. “I can tell we’re not on the path anymore. We are on grass.”

“Nice observation,” he remarked, sarcastically. “What else can you hear?”

“Running water…are we going uphill? I-I might fall,” she sounded genuinely worried. He huffed.

“I’m not going to let you fall,” he said, now able to pay more attention to her. The path was narrower than from what he observed earlier, when their group passed by it without anyone else noticing. He stayed closer to her, leading her with more attentiveness. “There’s a fence to your right. If you’re scared you’ll fall, you can grab hold of it.” Indeed, her hand reached out and touched the wood, but she drew it back, shaking her head.

“It’s alright,” she said. “I trust you.”

“Oh really? Then I suppose you won’t mind if I lead you into the water, would you?”

“What?!”

“I’m joking. You really don’t know how to take jokes, huh?”

She huffed, although he could barely hear it. He could barely hear _her_ , muffled by his scarf, amidst the sounds of the forest. “You always sound so serious! I can’t tell when you’re teasing me or not.”

“I’ll be sure to give you a heads up then. Woah—hey, _careful.”_ He grabbed hold of her shoulders, shoving her back. She staggered, but remained standing. “You almost fell off the edge.”

“Really?” The fear in her voice was hard to miss; he swallowed, starting to feel bad. After all, he had basically dragged her away, didn’t tell her where they were going, blindfolded her, and wouldn’t stop getting irritated at her. He pushed away an apology— _I can do that when we get there._

“Okay, just…” Therion glanced down at her hand and shook his head, gripping the scarf again. “Come on. Watch your step.” He was right in front of her this time, leading her as carefully as he could down the path. They walked for a bit more, until, finally, Therion stopped. “We’re here.” Ophilia tried to tug the scarf down, but was unsuccessful. “Geez, how much did you wrap around your head?”

“Enough to cover my face, as you told me to,” she said, lamely. He rolled his eyes, reaching out and untangling the scarf for her, careful not to muss her hair even further. When the cloth no longer covered her eyes…

“Ah!” They widened, first upon noticing how close the man was to her before switching her attention to what was behind him. “A waterfall! So that is where the sound of rushing water was coming from…” The coolness of the shade and the sight before her made her smile ever so slightly. All of Therion’s frustration and irritation seemed to melt away at the sight of it. He unwrapped the rest of the scarf and stepped back, holding it in his hand. She looked around with amazed eyes, taking in the cliff that slanted out overhead and the grassy path that led to their destination. When she turned her attention back to the thief, his lips were slanted upwards into a small smile from watching her that disappeared immediately when they made eye contact. “How did you know about this place?”

“When we passed by that sign earlier to see if Victors Hollow was nearby, I saw the path and could see the waterfall a bit from behind the hill,” he explained, plopping down onto the grass near the edge of the small river. She sat down next to him, so close that their knees were touching—yet neither made any attempt to move away. Therion was leaning back on his arms, staring at the waterfall. “I don’t know—you looked pretty tired back when we were fighting, and I thought it was because of the constant routine of fighting we’ve been doing this past week. If we were allowed to go into the town nearby, I would have taken you to the church there to rest but we haven’t been there before, so…I figured this place would be okay. It’s kind of noisy, with the waterfall and the crappy bird calls, but I think it’s as peaceful as any other church we’ve come across in the towns we’ve been in. That’s just me, anyway.”

“I like it,” she said with the same gentle smile on her lips. He looked at her.

“You do?” He stopped for a moment, embarrassed at his tone of voice. “I mean—of course you do.”

“Is that why you were so upset?” she asked, the smile fading away. He blinked. “Because you were trying to keep it a surprise?”

Silence.

She giggled. “That’s it, wasn’t it?”

“Hey! That’s because _–_ well, you—” he stammered, unable to come up with a proper excuse. She laughed more, causing him to grunt. “Okay, fine! Yeah, I wanted to surprise you, and that’s why I was mad.” He leaned forward, crossing his arms and looking off to the side. “...I didn’t mean to sound harsh.”

“You’re forgiven,” she said, quite kindly.

“I didn’t apologize.”

She smiled. “I know you meant to.”

“Right. Ophilia the mind reader. _That_ should be your special talent, you know.”

“I was simply guessing. So, are you saying I’m correct?”

He shrugged. “If that’s what you want to think.”

“Do you know what I think?”

“ _Al_ _as_ , I lack the talent the Sacred Flame has bestowed upon you.”

She ignored his remark. “I think you are a much kinder person than you let on.”

Slowly, almost unnoticeable, his head turned a bit towards her. “Haven’t you already told me this, back at the cathedral?”

“Yes. I just felt like saying it again.” She leaned forward slightly. “I told you,’ I thank the Sacred Flame for guiding me to you.’ Do you remember that?”

“It wasn’t _that_ long ago.” He was looking at her now, a neutral expression on his face. “...of course I remember.” How could he forget? How could he forget the day that swayed him? The day he found out what she thought about him? The relief he felt? The feelings that he worked so hard to not think about because it made him feel weak and _scared?_

“That day is important to me,” she continued. “Of course, I enjoy every conversation we have. Even the shorter ones we have while out on the path, journeying. But the times where we were able to sit down and talk, be honest with each other…”

 _Honest_.

His throat tightened, and his body stiffened. He moved away from her, his action catching her attention.

“Then _I’ll_ be honest with you,” Therion muttered. “A part of me didn’t like it.”

He didn’t need to look at her to know there was shock in her eyes.

“Why?” And there it was again. Questions. Always _questions_ , always wanting to know, always wanting him to explain. His lips were pressed together, a growing discomfort in his stomach. “Therion, _why?_ Tell me. Please.” He was still silent. Then she put her hand on his shoulder, and he tensed up even more. “Theri—”

“ _Stop_ it!” he snapped. She quickly drew her hand back, as though he had slapped it away. The confusion and worry on her face only further angered him, but within he was shaking, telling himself to stop, to apologize, to say he was tired. But that voice was silenced by his frustration. “God, stop it with the _questions!_ Why do you want to know so badly? Why do you want answers for _every little thing_ I do to you?”

“I-I didn’t mean to—”

“Yes, you didn’t mean to,” sarcasm laced his voice. “Just like I’m sure you didn’t mean to recruit a _thief_ to accompany you on your journey. And that you didn’t mean to get close to him. And that you didn’t mean to provoke him into _kissing you_. If I’d known that doing that would lead to you thinking you had the right to barge into my personal life and pick it apart for your own entertainment, then I would never have done it in the first place.”

She was silent.

He was gritting his teeth after having said his piece, heart pounding, fists clenched. His mind was in utter chaos, angry at her for making him feel that way, for making him sound like a complete jerk, for making him feel things he had so desperately wanted to lock away for good…

…for wanting to understand him.

“All I want to know…”

His eyes widened when she spoke, her voice small and vulnerable and _broken,_ immediately looking up at her to find no tears on her face, but the look of _hurt_. Completely helpless and pained.

“...is whether I had the right to expect something from you.”

“Like _what?_ ”

He wanted to stop. He wanted to stop and apologize, frame her face with his hands and stare into her eyes and apologize over and over and _over_ —

He didn’t.

She wasn’t looking his way, but he still looked at her when he spoke, “You’re always asking too much of me.” Those words finally made her look at him again—he had never seen her look that way. So lost, so anguished. The woman who guided all looked _lost._

“When have I ever asked anything of you?” her voice was cracking.

“It’s not what _you_ asked,” he replied, anger breaking and fear spreading. It reached his stomach, then his arms, legs, chest, and traveled all the way up to his mouth, shattering the wall of anger. “It’s who you _are._ ”

She sniffed. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve told you this before—the night you kept talking about touching me and whatever—I feel like I shouldn’t be around you. Hell, I even told you that I sometimes feel like I’m not worthy enough to _look_ at you, let alone have damned _feelings_ for you.”

He heard her gasp, softly.

“You make me feel _so many things_. When you look at me, it’s as if you look at something you want to protect, when I want it to be the other way around. But I can’t heal you. All I can do is hurt others so that they won’t hurt _you_.” His voice had lowered considerably. The rushing sound of water could have overpowered his voice, had he not been sitting so close to her. “And even that way of protection fails at times. I can’t even prevent you from being hurt. From both enemies and… _me._ ” He could see a different version of himself in his head, shuddering. _Pathetic_.

She placed her hand on his arm. He flinched, as he always did, and fear spiked his heart when he looked up, not wanting to see her cry. But she wasn’t. Her eyebrows were furrowed slightly, lips in a straight line, but there was still no tears. Just concern.

“Ophilia,” he spoke again, tired from being angry, weary from being cautious. “What do you _want_ from me?”

The forest around them seemed to quiet down at his question, beckoning the woman to speak.

She shook her head. “There is nothing from you that I want.”

“You said you expected something from me.”

“I said I did not know if I had the _right_ to expect something from you,” she corrected. “I know it’s selfish. I never wanted to ask anything of you. But, no matter what I do, who I am with...my mind always wanders back to you. When I look at you, when I think of you, I do not think of a some sort of vile thief. I do not see you as someone lowly or pitiful or repulsive.” There was conviction in her voice. “I think of _you._ I see _Therion_. The man I travel with. The man I still want to know better. The man who walks his own path but will stray off it to help any of our other companions should they require it. The man who saw I was weary and walked me all the way out here to let me rest. Those facts are what cemented you as someone very important in my heart.” She never broke eye contact, keeping the same assuring look and confidence. Her lips curved gently into a small smile. “Do I need any other reason?”

He didn’t speak for a few moments, letting her words hang in the air and settle into his mind. Then, he did, “Turn around.”

She tilted her head slightly in confusion, but didn’t question him. Instead, she took her hand back and turned her body, sitting and facing the opposite way from him, towards the path leading to their location. She heard him shift behind her. “Therion?”

Something fell onto her shoulder and tickled her cheek; turning slightly, all she could see was...hair. Therion was leaning onto her shoulder. “Don’t turn around,” he mumbled and she turned back, face flushed. They stayed that way for a few moments, both silent and listening again to the sounds of nature around them.

“...I’m sorry,” her voice was just above a whisper. “If I’ve pushed you to your limit.”

“Don’t apologize.” His voice was anything but angry, the opposite of his tone from before. “...I trust you, you know.”

“I am pleased to hear that.”

“I trust you. And...I believe you.”

“...thank you.”

“But there will always be a part of me that feels like you’ll take those words back. There’ll always be feelings of doubt.”

Her hand reached up, brushing through his hair comfortingly. “Alright.”

“Just ‘alright’?”

“‘Alright’, and, I will be here, always, to prove those doubts wrong anytime you wish.”

There was tranquility. Steadily, she felt his arms wrap around her, enveloping her in a loose embrace.

“It’s okay if I touch you, right?” he asked.

“Hearing those words from you makes me realize how embarrassing it must have been when _I_ asked,” she laughed. “But, of course.”

“You’re okay with it?”

“Yes, Therion.” Her fingers were untangling his hair, while she placed her other hand on his arms. “Are _you?_ ”

“...yeah.”

He closed his eyes, taking in her scent, the feeling of her hands, how nice it felt to be so close to her…

“Ophilia.”

She pulled her hand away gently and turned towards him as he lifted his head

In a low voice, she mimicked him. “Therion.”

He shook his head, laughing at her. “ _God_ , you couldn’t pull that off even if you tried your hardest.”

His laughter settled down into a smile, a serene one that matched the one on her own lips. His eyes traveled from her eyes to her smile, both of theirs slowly fading, and their eyes met again. His head was still tilted slightly downwards. She steadily leaned forward, resting her forehead against his.

“Is this alright?” she asked.

“Better than ‘alright’.”

“Are you still thinking of doubts?”

“I’m trying not to, but thanks for the reminder.”

She didn’t reply with words to his retort, choosing instead to silence his worries with a gentle kiss.

He pulled away from her, slowly, not wanting to release her completely. “Alright?”

“From now on, yes.”

Therion leaned forward again, forgetting witty or sarcastic remarks, forgetting anxious thoughts of her pushing him away or leaving him, choosing instead to remember the warmth that radiated off of her and to embrace Ophilia tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't a matter of whether he was worthy or not, but whether he could learn to accept that she thought he was beyond it.


	3. belong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of this work! (Not necessarily the entire series, maybe.) I'm sorry for this being so short; I've run low on inspiration recently, but I'm hoping to bounce back! Until then, enjoy this little conclusion, and I hope to write more for this couple~

She was precious.

Her gentle brown eyes and blond hair that fell into slight waves were features that made her stand out; her smile would shine like a light in the darkness of a dungeon. Ophilia was a holy woman, a woman with unbelievable power.

Over him.

She was the light that guided his path, the only person he had felt so tempted to open up to…

“Therion,” she would always start off with a gentle tone whenever he thought about Darius and the painful betrayal he had gone through. “It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me if you do not wish to.”

But he wanted to. He knew he wanted so desperately to be able to tell her, to tell her he was scared, to be able to be in her presence without an ounce of anxiety or cautiousness. There definitely were times where she was able to ease him into forgetting, just for a bit. But it always came back.

And with his journey soon coming to an end…

“I will remain with you.”

That, she assured him constantly, whenever he would get a distant look in his eye. And despite a part of him always waiting, always watching for a sense of contempt in her gaze that he never saw, always stiff with the urge to snap at her whenever she fretted over him when he was dazed with the past. His past was coming back to haunt him even more now than it had before.

Her arms would embrace him tightly, lips gently pressing against his cheek and lips, confident despite being flustered by a few simple teasing words. She was _his_ , she reminded him constantly, and he’d be even more of a sinner if he said he wouldn’t give anything and everything for her to remain by his side.  



End file.
